Pani rose and made an obeisance, and brought forward a chair.
"Or would Monsieur rather go in doors?" she inquired.
"O no. Little one—" he held out his hand.
"I thought you had forgotten. It is late," she said plaintively.
"I am a busy man, my child. I could wish for a little of the freedom that you rejoice in so exuberantly, though I dare say I shall have enough on my journey."
What a companion this gay, chattering child would be, going through new scenes!
"Mademoiselle, are you ever serious? Or are you too young to take thought of to-morrow?"
"I am always planning for to-morrow, am I not, Pani? And if it rains I do not mind, but go the same, except that it is not always safe on the river, which sometimes seems as if the giant monster of the deep was sailing about in it."
"There is another kind of seriousness, my child, and a thought of the future that is not mere pleasure. You will outgrow this gay childhood. You may even find it necessary to go to some other country. There may be friends awaiting you that you know nothing of now. You would no doubt like to have them pleased with you, proud of you. And for this and true living you need some training. You must learn to read, to speak English, and you will find great pleasure in it. Then you will enjoy talking to older people. You see you will be older yourself."
His eyes were fixed steadily on hers and would not allow them to waver. She felt the power of the stronger mind.